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The thought of kissing Elendar - lips to lips, the taste of him. The press of their cocks together - Elendar’s smaller than his own, though just as hard, their fingers entwining where they both reach between, their hands moving clumsy over their shafts, their hips even clumsier as they rub themselves together. All the ... |
And hells , he’d forgotten how good it felt to even imagine touching a cock. |
Elendar’s thoughts have turned along the same lines, or perhaps they’ve been sharing one fantasy. Gale feels more than sees his desires- skin on skin, heat and light, a bed beneath the stars, their bodies entwining-- |
He squeezes at the base of his cock in an increasingly futile effort to stave off his climax. Biting his lip, he lets his hand still altogether, dropping to lie restless on his thigh. His cock is flushed dark amid the curls at his groin, so hard it nearly hurts. The head lies fully exposed, his slit dripping near conti... |
He shouldn’t bring himself to climax. He ought to let his wandering thoughts bring Elendar to his peak, let his pleasure ebb in the wake as though it never existed at all. |
It takes everything he has to stay that course, but he keeps his hands from his hard cock, gives himself fully to fantasy. |
It's hot, it's needy, it's worlds more thrilling than the well-concealed stash of erotica back at his tower. It's a half-dozen fantasies at once, whirlwind pleasure, Elendar tight about his cock, his arousal weighty and rigid in Gale's palm, his body taut and writhing. He feels stretched thin, like glaze-paper, somethi... |
A flash of sight - the canvas ceiling of Elendar's tent, the blurry moon-glow beyond, like a smear of oil paint. His head must be thrown back. The mere suggestion of what he's doing to his body, to elicit such pleasure, is almost more rousing than actually seeing it. |
He's always loved in suggestions - entanglements in the Astral Plane, a mage hand wrapping around his cock, projections of himself to better satisfy a partner, saucy letters penned between himself and a distance-parted lover. Elendar is proving to be a case where he wants that suggestion to lead to something hot and de... |
Bodies entwined - or the phantasmagoria of it. Moans muffled against his neck. The roll of hips atop his, the heat around his cock. Temptation after half-real temptation. A mirage of pleasure that could be. |
Gale’s pulse is roaring in his ears, his cock throbbing. He’s burning through restraint he didn’t know he had. Unmet desire aches between his thighs, leaving him so hard it hurts. He’s biting the side of his hand to keep from groaning, legs trembling against the bedroll as wave after wave of tremulous, building ecstasy... |
He hears, not imagines, the sudden moan that shatters the silence of their campsite. |
His eyes roll back in his head as he comes, untouched, harder than he’d imagined he could. |
His teeth clamp down on his hand to keep hold on his own cry of ecstasy. A whimper still slips out, high and needy. His hips jerk against the bedroll, hand flying down to his cock as his restraint shatters. He thrusts wildly through his own fist, unrefined and desperate and messy. His seed coats his abdomen, white an... |
A second moan, as desperate as he feels, greets him from Elendar’s tent. His heart skips a beat. |
A year of denial, of loneliness, of disconnection. He’d forgotten how pleasure felt. The reminder unmakes him. |
When it ebbs, he’s alone with the beating of his heart and the dimming flickers of the Orb’s light. He listens to his quickened breaths even themselves out, feels his skin cool, sweat-slick in the tent's heat. The night is too still, suddenly. It’s an echoing sort of silence, the sort where something else once dwelt - ... |
It feels wrong, to wield magic to clean himself from his exertions, but he does so anyway. Even a cantrip is nearly beyond the reach of his wandering mind. |
How must Elendar feel, alone? How would it feel, to look him in the eyes tomorrow morning and pretend they haven't shared a night of psychically linked passion? |
Gods, that's a new one, even for a wizard of his caliber. |
He finds himself redressing, silently cursing himself for his rumpled clothes - he’s never so disorganized. He never forgets himself so thoroughly. |
The night air beyond the tent is blessedly cool, a breeze wending its way through camp. He’s keenly aware of how he must look, disheveled, sneaking across their campsite like a child stealing pastries left to cool on the kitchen windowsill. Thankfully, none of the others seem to have been jarred from their slumber. |
He stops beyond the nondescript gray walls of Elendar’s tent, raising his hand to knock before silently cursing himself for the sheer stupidity of the gesture. Instead, he opts for a hissed whisper - "Elendar. Would you be terribly opposed to my company?" |
There’s a single, awful moment of silence, just long enough to make him doubt. Then-- |
"A moment, please." His reply is soft. Gale can't blame him, given the last sounds out of his mouth. |
If he dwells on that, he might go mad. |
There comes the ruffling of fabric, motion within, then the ties on the tent-flap come undone. Elendar sits back on his bedroll and taps the spot beside him in invitation. |
He slips through, kneels with a wince - damn the hardness of the ground beneath the canvas floor - and secures the entryway behind him. If Elendar notices the tremor in his hands as he ties the straps, he says nothing of it. He braces his palms on his thighs, does his best to steady himself. |
All his efforts are flung far and wide the moment he takes in the sight of the drow. |
Elendar's tunic is undone down his chest, baring a strip of ashy skin that Gale desperately wants to kiss along. When he leans forward, white fabric billows from his chest, exposing a dark nipple drawn taut and erect. It's far, far too warm in his tent for it to signify anything save arousal. |
He's still just as disheveled as Gale himself, if not moreso. His hair is unbound, tousled, hanging loose about him. His lip is bitten darker, a flush lingering in his cheeks, sweat still glistening at his brow and the hollows of his collarbones. And further down... |
He's wearing a skirt. |
He's wearing only a skirt. |
The rumpled blue fabric from earlier drapes formless about him, almost reaching his knees. It's a perfectly modest garment. |
The scrap of white lace still looped around one ankle is decidedly not. |
It takes everything he has not to stare, but the moment's glimpse is enough. Sheer lace, undoubtedly cut for a woman's body, strikingly pale against his skin. Has he been wearing such things for the entire time Gale has known him? |
If he was a younger man, he'd already be hard again. |
"Gale," Elendar murmurs, still breathless, still wanting. "That was..." |
"Breathtaking?" he supplies - there’s so many words he could use, words and words and words, the product of a life spent between the pages of tome after beloved tome. He has so little time to say them all. He feels his face flush hotter. "At least, I certainly hope you’ll agree with that choice of phrasing." |
"I do." He’s short of breath, still, his eyes the deepest red Gale has ever seen. His hands curl in his trailing skirts, creasing the fabric further. "Not that I ever thought - I mean, I didn’t mean to, ah... show you, or enter your mind without asking, or - oh, stars, you know what I mean. Not that I regret it, or an... |
"Elendar." Gale can’t help but savor the way his name feels on his tongue. "Whatever twist in the threads of fate saw us merging our minds, it was a charmed one indeed. I came to you as soon as my manners returned to me. It would be terribly improper of me, to let a moment such as this go unspoken of." |
Elendar blushes an almost purple hue, meets his gaze with hooded eyes - hells, he’d never noticed how long his eyelashes are. "Would it be horribly uncouth to say I wish you could have been here sooner?" |
His heart leaps and plummets in the span of the same breath. He can’t help but lean closer, kneeling on the bedroll at Elendar’s side. They aren’t touching, but it’s enough to make him wish they were. |
"Would that I could," he says, swallowing hard. "I’m sure we would’ve brought half those fantasies of yours to life right here on this bedroll." |
He’s giddy , knowing Elendar wants him. He’s forgotten how that felt. |
"I’d like that," he murmurs, and it’s just breathy enough to turn Gale’s mind back to the memory of his moans. His blood quickens. |
It would be tantalizingly, devastatingly easy to kiss him. |
He leans in, all but pressing their brows together, but doesn't close the gap entirely. The warmth of Elendar's skin radiates hot enough to greet his own. A veneer of touch. It's all he can have. |
Elendar groans - actually groans , eyes fluttering shut, head tipped back, the sweat-slick column of his throat so catastrophically close to Gale’s lips. "We can’t. Oh, goddess, we can’t." |
Maybe once, Gale would have damned the consequences. Now, he’s let that recklessness guide him too many times. The punishment for his unfettered passion churns like a vortex in his chest, gnawing away at him like it devours every scrap of Weave it can get. |
He can let emotion guide him no longer. If he grants himself what he wants... |
He would destroy everything around them, the Orb burning through its fetters and the foolish mortal body that houses it. |
"Wise as ever," he hears himself say. "More the fool, I." |
Elendar’s brow furrows. He tucks his legs beneath him, concealing the maddeningly distracting garment dangling from his ankle, tugging at his skirt with restless hands. "You don’t...regret this, do you?" |
He allows himself a smile he knows doesn’t chase the sadness from his eyes. "I regret only that it couldn’t be more." |
That inquisitive gaze strays to his chest, the Orb-marks snaking from beneath the collar of his tunic. He knows - of course he does. Why else should they restrain themselves instead of surrendering themselves to the desire between them? |
Elendar hasn’t realized, yet, how thoroughly Gale can let him down. Selfish as it is - and it is selfish, and pathetic, and a dozen words less savory - he wishes he could indulge in him further before he learns. |
Gale stares into the scarlet of his eyes and wonders how long it will take for desire to turn to disappointment. |
"We’ll find a way," Elendar says, and Gale could be fooled into thinking he believes it. "We’ll find something. I swear by the moon, we will. And then we can be whatever we wish to be." |
Oh, gods, Elendar is going to break both their hearts. |
"Did you feel my fear?" he asks, low, as if raising his voice will set the Orb alight. "I thought I’d gone too far. I thought I’d damned us all for a moment of passion. Trust that I’m loath to say it, but it would be irresponsible at the least to indulge ourselves again." |
It’s mad - thoroughly mad - that he should care so much for one he’s known for so little time. And yet in that time, Elendar has proven himself to be so utterly worth knowing. |
A drow who watches the stars. A confidante, a healer, a friend, a could-be lover. Passionate, and genuine, and devout in all the ways Gale knows so intimately. |
And so achingly vulnerable. |
He’d felt lust and want and fantasy after erotic fantasy while entwined with Elendar’s mind, yes, but he’d also brushed against the sheer helplessness there. Matters of the flesh are new to him, in some measure, and painful reminders in others. He'd be so easily hurt. He cannot let him share himself with a dying man. |
Never mind that they're both dying of the very things that granted them their moment in one another's minds. |
Perhaps that's why they cling to each other like shipwrecked sailors cling to driftwood in a storm. |
"We needn’t dabble in, ah... physical pursuits, if the risk is too great, but...I like you, Gale. All of you. I liked sharing my evenings with you when it was no more than talking by the fireside." Elendar tugs at his hair as he speaks, nervous, fingers never idle. "Whatever we have...that’s what I want. Even if that ... |
He ought to douse this nascent flame between them. A few curt words, and it would be over. They could press on, until hope alone could no longer sustain the Orb and Gale would close his eyes and whisk himself away to await the death he’d promised Elendar he’d have. |
Alone. Exhausted, at the end of everything. A wizard fallen from the heights of his tower to break on the rocks of his folly. Perhaps his last thought would be of Elendar. Perhaps he should be grateful for that measure of comfort instead of grasping for more. Perhaps he should have already left to meet his fate - alone... |
He has grown deathly sick of solitude. |
"I want so much more." He can’t quite keep his voice from splintering. "If we could..." |
Elendar dares a brush of their hands - just the fingertips, just for a heartbeat, as if more would set the world aflame. "We can’t now," he breathes, "but we will. " |
It’s a lie, even if Elendar doesn’t know it. Gale wants to believe it. He shouldn’t - the trade of the scholar is one of truths, even difficult ones, even ones bitter with injustice. |
Just this once, he allows himself the comfort of a lie. |
"We will," he echoes, hollow and pathetic. "You should know I plan on holding you to that." |
"You can truly hold me," Elendar quips, though it cannot hide his yearning, "once we fix that curse of yours." |
Gale tries, well and honestly tries, not to dwell too long on that thought. |
"I should leave you to your rest," he hears himself say, as much as he doesn’t want to. "And I should get mine. I don’t fancy my arcane prowess after a sleepless night, and I imagine you don’t fancy yours either." |
"Hardly," Elendar says, absently. He sounds a thousand miles away, but his eyes are intent as ever, bright as they stare into his. "Rest well, Gale." |
"Until the morrow, then." Gale rises, as best he can in the cramped tent, and lets himself out. He pauses in the dancing shadows beyond the firelight’s reach, casts one more look to Elendar. |
Against the sorrow tugging at his heart, he can't help but smile at him. |
The answering smile that flits across his face is brief, but it makes him ache. |
With a murmur and a flutter of his hands, Gale does the canvas back up with a gust of Weave tangling in the straps. The walk back to his own tent is brief - scant paces, hardly worth counting. The fire’s light is low, simmering. A colder, more distant glow limns the campsite in silver. |
He lingers outside, gaze drawn inexorably up to the diamond stars above. The constellations Elendar worships stare back, sailors on the inky sea of night. The moon is full and fat, hanging amid the stars like a lord at court. There’s something otherworldly to the sight. He understands well how it drove Elendar to praye... |
He dares not beg another goddess for salvation. The earring, Mystra’s symbol wrought in silver, weighs heavy on his head. Divinity, capricious and distant and omniscient, and so far beyond his too-curious reach. He has been loved and damned and cast aside. Perhaps this is the finest mercy he could ask of Mystra, this s... |
If Selûne is better acquainted with mercy, at least Elendar will be spared when Gale pays the price of his folly. |
Flashes of bile-lightning flew past Tavrian’s shoulders. The rays of green-yellow light crackled with an undead energy, and as they roared past his ears he could hear the ghoulish whispers of the former soul that cast those spells. It cried, and wept, and screamed from the pain of undead agonies—a voice forever lost to... |
"Keep running!" Karlach shouted as she skidded to a stop along the cobblestone path to throw a javelin. Her missile flew true, impaling the undead caster armored in torn padded leather that was damp and ashen with age. A scream howled from the charging mass. "Get to the Last Light! Tav," her voice cut through his racin... |
"Just keep them safe Kar!" Tavrian stopped as well and turned to face the rushing crowd, warhammer ready and the adamantine shield steadfast before him. As he fell to a stop the others passed him. Gale and Wyll were busy limping along, Wyll leaning against the wizard for support as blood dripped down his face and along... |
They had entered the first sanctum of Shar’s temple when they had been waylaid by the undead. Zombies and armored undead knights had broken out of the mausoleum to attack them from all sides. At first, Tavrian had thought they could smash all resistance and carry on. Yet the undead tide continued, unabated, and he call... |
A galloping ghoul pulled away from the pack and lunged at Tavrian. He caught the monster on his shield and shoved back, only to slam the massive head of his warhammer into the creature’s skull. There was a sickening snap as the body collapsed, and a howl resounded from the charging throng. Some dark magic had compelled... |
As they drew nearer to the Last Light Inn, Tavrian knew that they could not hold them there. The remaining harpers and flaming fist soldiers were limited in their ability to fight, their strength more suited for a lighting strike rather than halting a tide of undead. Not to mention the tieflings that they had just resc... |
Run! Stay safe! |
His thoughts were borne away upon their connection, one last call for her to find safety. For a moment a look of fear crossed her face, her mouth opening for a moment, before she abruptly turned and speeded down the road towards the last light. She passed beyond his sight around the corner of the road, and he had to as... |
"Tavrian, don't even think about it!" She launched another javelin over his shoulder, flames rising off her skin. |
"Don’t worry about me!" He reached the bend towards the bridge when the ghouls caught him again. One of them launched themselves onto his back, the claws digging deep into the plate mail he wore. With a deep breath he threw it off him and stomped on its head, using the momentum to turn towards the overbearing horde. An... |
As ravenous beasts they lunged and snapped their ragged maws around the metal plates of his armor. Their fingers scraped against the mail hauberk, and the force of each blow sent his helm spinning away into the darkness. He fell back, disarmed, his only defense the shield which he held over his head. Soon the claws tur... |
This is it. I’m sorry, everyone. Shadowheart, please see the light... |
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